


This Thing You’ll Never Doubt

by Runaround_Stu



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Beating, Choking, Deception, Forced Eye Contact, Homophobic Language, Humiliation, Light Bondage, M/M, Name-Calling, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Psychological Torture, Rape, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Twisted Hurt/Comfort, Watersports, spitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 18:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10496511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runaround_Stu/pseuds/Runaround_Stu
Summary: Prompto’s friends will hurt him, but Ardyn will always make him feel good—that’s the hard lesson that Ardyn has to teach his prisoner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like throwing my hat in the "Ardyn tortures Prompto" ring. Primarily Ardyn/Prompto. Ignis/Prompto is an established relationship. No actual Noctis/Prompto but it's listed because you'll see.
> 
> Title is from the song “Supervixen” by Garbage. Appropriately, this fic is also garbage. Enjoy at your own risk.

Prompto felt himself slowly emerge from unconsciousness. His mind felt like molasses. He didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t move. His arms were pinned down and by the pressure on his wrists he could tell that he was vertical and hanging partly by his restraints. He opened his eyes. Then he tried opening them again. He still couldn’t see. He felt panic rise in his throat at the thought that he might have also been blinded. After a moment of terror, he noticed a tiny point of flashing light, too small to illuminate anything. It was something electronic, maybe a door keypad. He sighed in relief at the realization that the room was just pitch black, and his eyes were presumably working as they always had.

That relief was only a momentary comfort. He was still bound in an uncomfortable position in an unknown location in the dark. He could hear his breath quicken in the quiet room. _Calm down, calm down, figure this out_ , he commanded himself. He tested how much he could move his body, assessing the situation. His bonds were apparently metal and very sturdy. There were more metal bands around his chest, allowing him just enough room to breathe. It suddenly didn't feel like enough room at all. He was overwhelmed with the need to move his body, but he couldn’t. The inner voice commanding him to move fed his panic in a loop until he was crying, then screaming, then panting silently. Tears streamed down his cheeks. After several never-ending minutes of this cycle, he finally, blissfully, passed out.

He woke up again. He had no idea how much later it was, except that his arms were aching even more and the tears and snot had dried on his face. He kept himself calm for a little while, straining to see and hear what was around him. He could see nothing but that infuriating flashing light. He could hear a faint metallic clang-clang-clang that sounded like the distant footsteps of, most likely, an MT. It didn’t seem like it was in the room with him, but he really had no idea how big the room was. His only clues were that blinking light and the fact that his struggles and cries did not echo like he was in a huge room. He pretended he was Ignis, taking in every detail and analyzing the situation despite a lack of sight. He wasn’t Ignis, though, and he couldn’t do even with intense effort what Ignis did automatically.

He controlled his breathing for a long time, humming a little song to soothe and distract himself. Then he hummed another song, then another. Eventually he ran out of songs and felt the panic start to creep up on him again. He had hoped something would have happened by now, even if it was just a  daemon jumping out at him. Actually, he didn't know if that would be better or worse. He started to cry again, then hyperventilate, and it wasn’t long before he caused himself to pass out again.

The third time he awoke it was because he heard a disturbingly familiar voice. He couldn’t tell if the voice was coming through speakers, coming from a person in the room, or was in his head. He stiffened in a fight-or-flight response even though he was unable to do either.

“Sweet little Prompto,” cooed the voice, “Do you think your friends are looking for you?”

Prompto recognized that slimy voice: Ardyn. He shivered. He had gotten a bad vibe from him since the time he'd grabbed Prompto’s face far too intimately back in Lucis. Suddenly, flashes of memory returned to him—the train, pointing his gun at Ardyn’s face, feeling like he was seeing himself from outside his body as Noctis rushed him. He remembered a single static image of the train as he fell, then nothing.

“I doubt it,” Ardyn’s voice continued. It was simultaneously filling the room and right in Prompto’s ear. “Prince, ah, _King_ Noctis did attack you, after all.”

“That was an accident,” Prompto whispered.

“Was it?” Ardyn asked, “Perhaps. It seems like a terribly big accident.”

Prompto felt his eyes prickle and his nose burn. He had to get himself under control; he was a grown man and a Crownsguard, if only in name. He couldn’t cry like a little boy. Ardyn hadn’t even really hurt him yet.

“Or maybe your boyfriend will come looking for you,” Ardyn continued, “I’m sure he misses his little fuck hole. Though I can’t imagine how he would find you in his condition. Honestly, he’s probably already dead.”

Prompto bit his lip, trying to control his feelings. Ardyn was messing with him on purpose, and he knew it. He just had to block it out, not let it get to him. He could get through this. He had a mask to wear, just like the others, though his was of good cheer rather than stoicism. “Nah, the guys wouldn't let me die without paying back the gil I owe them,” he quipped weakly.

He almost jumped out of his skin when Ardyn’s cold hand touched his face. So, he was actually in the room. “Always a light in the darkness, little Prompto. Let's take a look at you,” Ardyn said. The dingy industrial lights in the room came up. Prompto winced. When his vision cleared, he was looking directly into the smiling, sickening face of Ardyn Izunia.

A horrible screeching suddenly filled the room. Something was scraping on the door. Prompto held his breath, eyes wide. Soon it moved on, leaving Prompto staring at the door, his heart racing.

“I would tell you not to worry, the MTs can’t get you, but I really can’t promise that,” Ardyn said, glancing casually at the door, “Though perhaps they would welcome you as one of their own.”

“What do you mean?” Prompto blanched.

“You’re not a stupid boy. You must have some idea.” Ardyn reached up and released the metal cuff holding Prompto’s right arm. Grasping his wrist firmly, he pulled his hand forward. With a long finger, Ardyn stroked Prompto’s soft, pale inner forearm, then turned his arm over and caressed the soft hair and freckled skin. Prompto shuddered. When Ardyn started pulling off his glove and wrist cuff, he tried to yank his arm away but Ardyn’s grip tightened like a vise, not hurting but simply holding with an immovable iron grip. Ardyn stripped Prompto’s hand and wrist slowly and sensually, like he was undressing a lover's body. Prompto felt nauseous.

“Why else would you keep your tattoo hidden?” Ardyn asked, placing a kiss on the mark, “You’re not the only one in Insomnia with a tattoo. You must know what it means.”

“No, no,” breathed Prompto, “I knew it was from… here. But it’s not _that_!”

“Oh, Prompto, you are so sweet,” Ardyn murmured against his wrist, “We are going to have such a good time together.” He kissed Prompto’s palm, then gently bit down on his wrist. Prompto closed his eyes. He was repulsed, but the touches sent a prickle of arousal through his body, which made him feel even more disgusting.

Ardyn moved in close and pressed a kiss against Prompto’s delicate lips. Prompto struggled, trying to melt back into the metal he was bound against. Ardyn’s beard stubble scraped against his face. “Oh, don't worry,”Ardyn added after pulling away, “I'm not going to hurt you. I'll leave that to the others.”

“Others?” Prompto asked, but Ardyn was gone.

* * *

“Prom!”

Prompto opened his eyes at the familiar voice. “Noct?” he whispered hoarsely. His throat was sore from crying and thirst.

Noctis standing in front of him, staring up at him. His eyes were cold behind his wisps of black hair.

“Noct,” Prompto whispered, “Thank the Gods. Please, get me down.”

A long moment passed before Noctis replied, “Why should I?”

Prompto’s eyes grew wide. “Noct, please.”

“What have you ever done for me? You’re such a dead weight,” Noctis continued, “I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t see you again after I knocked you off that train, but here we are.” He sighed.

Tears ran down Prompto’s cheeks. “Noct, please, whatever you want, I’ll do better,” he pleaded.

Noctis looked him up and down appraisingly. “Alright, let’s see if you can make it worthwhile to keep you around.” He approached Prompto, freed him from the metal bands that held him, and let him crumple to the floor. Prompto rubbed at his numb wrists and hands, and scrubbed at his face with his fists. Noctis grabbed him by the hair and made him look up from where he was kneeling on the floor. Prompto’s eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. “You’re pathetic,” Noctis continued, “Crying like a fucking baby.” He slapped Prompto across the face with his free hand, which only brought more tears to his eyes. He shoved his thumb between Prompto’s lips. “Don’t forget that I’m your king. You should be servicing me, not making me waste my time rescuing you.”

Noctis unzipped his black pants, tugging them down in the front enough to reveal his cock, which was already hard.

“Noct, wait,” Prompto exclaimed, straining against the hand holding his hair, “Wait, please.” He put a hand on Noctis’s thigh in an attempt to hold him off.

“ _Noct, wait,_ ” Noctis mocked, “I think you mean ‘Your Majesty.’ Try again.”

This couldn’t really be Noctis, Prompto told himself. It couldn’t. They’d been friends for six years, and had known one another for even longer. Even if Noct secretly hated having him around, he wouldn't do _this_. But here he was, and he felt very real. “I… please, Y-Your Majesty, wait, can’t we—”

“No,” Noctis said simply. He grabbed Prompto by the jaw and jerked his mouth open. Without warning he shoved his cock inside until it hit the back of Prompto’s throat. Prompto gagged and dry heaved. “Don't puke on me,” Noctis warned, “And don’t you dare bite me.”

Prompto made a little whimpering noise that sounded like an agreement.

“You sound like a faggot,” Noctis muttered. Prompto’s hand squeezed Noctis’s thigh. “Hands down,” Noctis commanded, “Don’t touch me.” Then he grasped Prompto’s hair tightly and started fucking his face, violating Prompto’s parched throat. “Your mouth is dry as fuck. Look at me.” He tipped Prompto’s head back, his cock sliding out from between chapped pink lips. “Open your mouth.” When Prompto obeyed, Noctis leaned forward slightly and let a big glob of spit fall into Prompto’s open mouth. Prompto almost gagged again. “Don’t swallow that,” Noctis ordered, then started to fuck Prompto’s mouth again. “That’s a little better.”

Prompto closed his eyes, trying to pretend he was somewhere else, but soon he heard Noctis say, “Open your eyes. Look at me.” Prompto’s huge, teary eyes gazed up at his best friend. Noctis slammed his cock all the way down Prompto’s throat, and Prompto convulsed, fighting down vomit.

“Gods, you suck at this,” Noctis finally said, yanking Prompto’s mouth off him, “I thought you were supposed to be a good cocksucker. I know I've heard you gagging on Ignis’s dick enough times.” He held Prompto firmly a few inches back and started to jerk himself off. He rubbed his cock against Prompto’s lips and face, smearing him with precum and saliva. When Prompto looked away, he slapped him sharply on the cheek in reprimand.

“Oh, yeah, fuck, Prom, I’m gonna come. Open your mouth. Open your fucking eyes.” After a few more strokes, Noctis came in thick spurts across Prompto’s face. Some of it went in his mouth. Some of it went in his eye and made him whine in pain.

Noctis blandly watched Prompto’s face contort. “Say thank you,” he commanded.

“Th- thank you. Your Majesty,” Prompto whispered hoarsely.

Noctis’s tone changed suddenly. “You’re really thirsty, aren’t you?” he asked softly, almost tenderly.

“Gods, yes,” Prompto begged, one eye squeezed tightly shut, tears running down his cheeks.

“Poor thing. Open your mouth.”

Prompto obeyed Noctis automatically before he realized what was happening. He snapped his mouth shut and turned his face away so the stream of piss hit his cheek, but Noctis grabbed his hair again and angled his face forward. “Open your fucking mouth, Prompto. Don't make me say it again.”

Prompto opened his mouth reluctantly. Noctis’s piss filled his mouth and spilled down his front, soaking his shirt and pants. He almost started to gag again, but the warm liquid really did feel soothing in his dry, sticky mouth. He found that the taste was bearable as long as he didn't try to swallow any.

Noctis shook last few drops from his dick in Prompto’s face, zipped up his pants, then shoved him back. Prompto fell to the ground on his side.

“You’re pathetic,” Noctis spat. He turned and walked to the door.

“Wait, Noct, please!” cried Prompto, crawling toward him, “Don't leave me here!”

Without a backwards glance, Noctis went to the door, opened it with a key card, and let it shut behind him.

Prompto screamed, begging Noctis to come back. He crawled to the door and pounded on it, then pulled himself up to prod at the lock pad. To his shock, the door slid open. He fell silent, dumbfounded. He poked his head out and looked left, then right. But before he could go two steps, he was caught in the sights of a disfigured MT, which started to run toward him. He stumbled back and slammed the keypad, falling on his butt on the hard floor, heart pounding at the MT slammed into the other side of the door.

“Oh, my pet,” Ardyn said, “Why do you think you can open that door? Did you think I was lying about your little tattoo? I wouldn’t lie to you.” Ardyn was somehow in the room with him again, standing to one side and looking down at Prompto with amusement on his handsome but unsettling face.

Prompto curled into a ball on the floor. “No.”

“Denying it won’t make it untrue,” Ardyn said, shaking his head. He walked over to Prompto and produced a water bottle. “Do you want this?” he asked. Prompto nodded. Ardyn stroked Prompto’s cheek as he tipped his face up. Prompto recoiled at his touch and tried to summon his gun, but nothing happened.

“None of that,” Ardyn said as if he knew, tapping Prompto on the cheek in a facsimile of affection. He squirted some of the water into Prompto’s mouth. “I’ll leave this here if you promise to be a good boy and stay away from that door. Not that you would make it very far.”

It was a terrible bargain, but Prompto had to take it. There was relative safety in this room with a bottle of water, compared to out there with MTs and daemons, lost, alone, and unarmed. He clutched the bottle like a life preserver.

“Good boy. If you learn to be very good, maybe you can stay here with me,” Ardyn said, bending down on one knee to pull him in for another uncomfortably tender kiss. When he was alone again, Prompto cried into his hands until he fell into a fitful sleep on the floor, shivering in his wet clothes.

* * *

 

Prompto wasn’t sure how long he was alone this time. At least he wasn't in the dark. At some point, he ran out the water that he was sipping carefully. A little after that, he crawled over to a corner of the small room to piss. He considered the door. If he were brave like his friends, he would try to fight his way out. But he couldn’t even summon a weapon, and there were MTs and worse out there. He had also promised Ardyn he wouldn’t, and he couldn’t gamble away the small amount of mercy Ardyn had shown him.

Shivering, he sat himself up against a box and hugged his knees, humming brokenly to try to calm his nerves. Maybe that hadn’t really been Noctis. It couldn’t have been, right? Maybe it was a dream or an illusion. Maybe they were still coming for him. Maybe Ignis was coming for him.

He was startled by a sharp nudge with a boot and a gruff, “Hey, kid.” He hadn’t even thought he was asleep, but he didn't hear anyone come in. It was hard to tell when he drifted in and out of sleep in the never-changing room.

“Gladio,” Prompto whispered hoarsely, “Is that really you?” He looked up at Gladio’s face, looming above him in the cold light, frowning with concern.

“Of course, Prom. Now get up, we’ve gotta get out of here.”

Prompto started getting shakily to his feet. Gladio reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, hoisting him up roughly.

“We’ve been looking all over for you, kid. We really need to get back on track.”

“S-sorry,” mumbled Prompto, guilt washing over him.

“You really should’ve tried to break out,” Gladio continued, looking him over, “What was all that self-defense training for? If you’re not going to help us, at least you shouldn’t make more work for us.”

Prompto said nothing, just looked down at the ground.

“Hey, what is that on your wrist?” Gladio asked, making a grab for Prompto’s hand.

“Nothing!” Prompto snatched his hand away and took a step back.

Gladio’s face grew darker. “Let me see.” It wasn’t hard for him to overpower Prompto and hold his wrist up to the light. “What is this? It looks like some kind of Niff shit.”

Prompto shook his head frantically, but could offer no explanation.

“Is that what you’ve been hiding under that stupid wristband all this time? All these years you’ve been lying to us?” Gladio’s grip on Prompto’s wrist tightened painfully.

“No, no,” Prompto tried to explain as tears sprang to his eyes again, “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” Gladio grabbed his other wrist and forced him down to his knees. “What are you, Prompto? A Niff spy? An MT? Are you even human?”

“Yes!” Prompto cried, “I mean, yes, I'm human. Gladio, please, let me explain.”

“I can’t believe how close we let you get to the Prince,” Gladio said, “You really had us fooled. You fucking Niff scum.” Gladio let go of Prompto’s right wrist to let a punch fly. It connected with Prompto’s cheek and sent him sprawling to the ground. He curled up to protect himself, knowing he wouldn't be able to fight back against the brick wall of a man standing in front of him. Blood dripped from his nose to the floor.

Gladio kicked him as he shielded his face and torso, leaving bruises on his limbs. A few on the kicks connected with his ribs and gut, making him cry out. “I should kill you,” Gladio growled, and Prompto believed him.

“I’m not a spy,” Prompto pleaded, “I was just born here—”

“Born?” Gladio asked skeptically, “More like grown in a lab. Can you even feel pain, or is this all a show?” He knelt down, grabbed Prompto by the hair, and cracked his head against the floor. Prompto could only grunt as the pain shot through him like an electric shock.

Gladio pushed Prompto onto his back and knelt astride his chest, pinning his arms down with his knees. He brought his massive hands to Prompto’s delicate throat. Prompto looked up helplessly with his huge, bloodshot, pleading blue eyes. Gladio looked back impassively at the face of his young friend and started to squeeze. Prompto kicked wildly, but before long, darkness closed over him.

* * *

Prompto was surprised to wake up again. He groaned and rolled onto his side, finding Ardyn sitting nearby, legs crossed, watching him patiently. Prompto was aching all over. His throat was horribly sore. The blood on his face was partly crusted, partly sticky. He ran his tongue over his teeth. They were all still there. He tenderly touched around his eye, which he was sure must be black and blue, and his nose, which was sore but didn’t seem to be broken. He did think he might have a fractured rib, or at least a very badly bruised one. He slowly sat up, his head pounding.

“I'm so glad you're awake,” Ardyn said, “Such a brute, that Gladiolus.”

Prompto sniffled, which made pain shoot through his head. Ardyn knelt down by him, cradling his head in one hand and holding a bottle of water to his lips. Prompto wanted to squirm out of his grasp, but soothing water on his sore throat overrode the urge.

Ardyn stroked Prompto’s bruised face, and he winced in pain. “Who could damage such a lovely face?” He pulled Prompto close, kissing his neck tenderly and running one hand over his battered body. Prompto turned away weakly.

Ardyn gently laid Prompto back down on the floor. Before Prompto knew it, he was gone. Prompto closed his eyes and calmed his breathing, trying to convince himself that he would be okay.

He wasn’t surprised this time when the door slid open, then closed. He knew who it was going to be, some part of him clearly seeing the pattern while the rest of him refused to believe it. He saw the tall, toned figure of Ignis, cocking his head as he listened intently.

“Ignis!” Prompto croaked. After his previous two encounters, he should have been wary, but seeing his lover’s face made his heart rise in hope. “Thank the Astrals.” Ignis could be many things, but he was never careless or cruel. Even if he were mad at Prompto, he wouldn’t make him suffer, right?

“Prom, is that you?” Ignis asked softly, sweeping his cane in front of him as he cautiously approached the voice.

“Yes, Iggy. Help, I—” he paused, not wanting to anger Ignis by accusing the others of wrongdoing. _It wasn’t really them_ , a little part of his brain said optimistically. _But this isn’t really Ignis,_ it added darkly _._ “I’m in bad shape.”

Ignis knelt down in front of him, removed his glove, and reached out to his face. He ran his fingers over the swollen cheek and through the mostly-dried fluids crusted on Prompto’s face. He wrinkled his nose at Prompto’s scent: the sour smell of old piss, the musk of his dry sweat, a metallic hint of blood. “It seems like you took a beating,” he commented flatly, “But pardon me if I don’t feel terribly sorry for you.”

Prompto’s heart shattered. “I’m fine, Iggy,” he amended quickly, “It’s not that bad. I just need to get outta here.”

“Out of here? For what purpose? To come with us?” Ignis sounded surprised.

“Yes,” came Prompto’s hesitant reply.

“I’m sure you’ll understand if I feel that would not be the best plan,” Ignis said, “I have to think about the good of the Prince. You’re a burden, Prompto. You couldn’t even help me in Altissia.” Ignis’s tone was neutral, but his words pierced Prompto’s heart as deeply as if they were his daggers.

“I’m so, so sorry, Iggy,” Prompto whispered, his voice thick with pain, “I wanted to help you. I'm sorry. Please don’t leave me here. I’ll help, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Ignis hummed in consideration. “You always have been good for one thing,” he said, running his hand down Prompto’s back to his ass, then squeezing his thigh. Prompto shuddered. Ignis’s touch should have comforted him, but this touch chilled him.

“If that’s what you want, Iggy,” Prompto replied, hoping he could be obedient enough that Ignis— _It’s not Ignis!_ his brain screamed—would take him out of here.

“Good. Now pull down your pants and get on your hands and knees.”

Prompto tearfully did as he was told. The floor was hard under his knees. Ignis reached out and stroked down his back. It wasn't soothing.  

“Not like that,” Ignis commanded, “Like a good slut.” He leaned over Prompto, pushing down on his aching head until his cheek was crushed against the cold, hard floor. Prompto’s numerous bruises and possible fractures protested sharply. Ignis pushed on Prompto’s lower back, making him arch and stick his ass up in the air. “Better.”

Ignis unbuttoned his pants. Prompto didn’t turn around to look as Ignis freed his erection and stroked it until it was fully hard. He felt Ignis’s gloved hand on his ass, squeezing possessively. He heard Ignis spit and heard the wet sound of him rubbing it up and down his cock. When the tip of Ignis’s cock pressed against his ass, he flinched. He twisted his body to look back at Ignis. “Wait, Iggy, I’m not ready,” he pleaded.

“You’re ready when I say you are,” Ignis replied coolly. He spread Prompto’s cheeks and forced his barely-lubed cock into Prompto’s tense hole.

Prompto screamed and tried to squirm away, but Ignis held his hips firmly. “If you act up, it will only be more painful.” He pulled back halfway and slammed into him again.

Prompto shrieked. It hurt so much. It burned. He felt like he was being stabbed. Ignis had never hurt him like this before, even when their sex got rough. He tried to breathe, to focus on relaxing, but the situation was too stressful and Ignis never paused to give him a moment to adjust. If anything, he felt like it became tighter and more painful with each thrust.

Ignis slapped him on the ass, making him gasp. “Your ass is so tight, I think you might crush my dick,” he said, “That’s why I like you, Prompto.”

Prompto’s cheek scraped against the floor where his tears and drool were pooling. He stared off in the direction of the wall, and soon his screams died down to soft cries and whines punctuated by sobs of pain.

“Your ass is finally opening up for me,” Ignis commented, “I guess a faggot like you just can't help yourself.” It was much too long before Ignis’s thrusts starting getting quick and directed. He finally grunted, digging his fingers into Prompto’s thighs, and shot his load deep inside, grinding his hips hard against him. He pulled out slowly. Cum, swirled deep pink with blood, dripped onto the floor and slid down Prompto’s shivering thighs.

“What a pretty color.”

It took Prompto a moment to register the comment as something Ignis would not have said. Then it struck him that the voice was different, too. He twisted around to see Ardyn getting to his feet and coming towards his face. Ardyn gently hoisted him up onto his hands. “Clean my dick off like a good boy,” he purred. Prompto squeezed his eyes shut but opened his mouth, sucking the cum and blood off Ardyn’s sizeable, still-hard cock. He had no strength left to resist.

“Look at me… Good boy.” Ardyn slid his cock in and out of Prompto’s mouth slowly, not deep enough to gag him, then pulled it out and tucked it away. He looked down for a long time at the soft blond hair and pretty, boyish, freckled face, now battered and smeared with dried blood, urine, saliva, and semen. “You are so beautiful,” he said, “Give me a kiss.”

He knelt down and waited for Prompto to lean in and kiss him of his own accord. He did. It was hardly more than a peck, but it thrilled Ardyn.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” Ardyn continued in his saccharine tone. He gave Prompto a potion that healed all the biggest injuries, leaving the boy sore and bruised, but with nothing broken, bleeding, or too swollen. He gave him water and wiped his face and his ass clean, then straightened his clothing as best he could. Prompto responded to all of Ardyn’s ministrations like an injured puppy desperate for a kind hand, clinging to him despite himself.

Ardyn put Prompto back in his restraints, at which Prompto gave a weak grunt of protest. Ardyn shushed him. “You've endured so much. I think you deserve something to make you feel good.” He caressed Prompto’s sides and hips. Prompto whimpered weakly.

Ardyn went down on one knee and gently squeezed Prompto’s soft cock through his pants. Prompto closed his eyes. He knew there was no way to resist. He hoped that at least Ardyn wouldn’t hurt him too much.

Ardyn’s hands were big, and Prompto knew he had no qualms about using then to hurt or even kill, yet his touch was shockingly gentle. He opened Prompto’s fly and slid his pants down to his thighs. Prompto’s cock was just starting to harden at the base. Ardyn took it in his mouth, coaxing it to erection.

Prompto gasped. It felt too good. He hadn’t thought there was any chance of him getting hard, but now he was, and he was overwhelmed with shame. He didn't want Ardyn to touch him, so why was he hard?

As Ardyn began sliding his mouth up and down on Prompto’s cock, Prompto moaned softly.

Ardyn paused to murmur, “You like that, don't you?” then swallowed Prompto until his nose was pressed into dark blond hair, which wasn't a particular challenge. He breathed in Prompto’s humid scent like it was the sweetest perfume.

When Prompto began to tremble and pant despite himself and his cock grew even harder in Ardyn’s mouth, Ardyn pulled away. Prompto groaned in a mixture of frustration and relief, but Ardyn wasn’t finished. He wrapped his big hand around the captive boy's erection and jerked him off with strong, quick strokes. Prompto felt the pressure building and knew he was going to come, even though he didn't want to. He retreated into his imagination, trying to pretend he was somewhere he wanted to be, having sex with someone he wanted to be having sex with, but images of Ardyn kept intruding in his thoughts.

“Open your eyes, Prompto,” Ardyn commanded in a soft but powerful voice, “Look at me.”

Prompto reluctantly obeyed and locked eyes with Ardyn. He wanted to look away again, but it was like he was drowning in Ardyn’s unwavering gaze. He gave a strangled moan as his cum splattered onto the floor, feeling like his dick was thousand miles away from his head.

Ardyn smiled, “I knew you were a good boy, Prompto. It’s too bad I can’t keep you today.” He pulled Prompto’s pants back up and then lovingly stroked his face, wiping his tears away with his thumb. He kissed him a final time, and this time Prompto parted his lips willingly for Ardyn’s tongue. Ardyn chuckled. “You want me to stay, don't you? But your little friends are coming to take you away from me.”

“No,” whispered Prompto in a terrified voice.

“Don't worry,” Ardyn murmured directly into Prompto’s ear, “I'll come back for you.” Prompto gave a tiny mewl, his mind haywire with confusion and fear.

When Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis appeared in the door together, the evidence of the worst abuse had been washed away, though his clothes were filthy. They released him from his bonds, and he assured them he was okay, making himself smile and hug them in gratitude, even though it made his skin crawl. Only Ignis noticed that every time they touched, Prompto flinched.


End file.
